


Find the Frank (Tag You're It)

by kissteethstainred, orphan_account, pink_ink, twelvemorestopsandhome, unbrokengibberish



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Caper Fic, Comedy, Family, Shameless Fanfic Relay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 08:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3440870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissteethstainred/pseuds/kissteethstainred, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pink_ink/pseuds/pink_ink, https://archiveofourown.org/users/twelvemorestopsandhome/pseuds/twelvemorestopsandhome, https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbrokengibberish/pseuds/unbrokengibberish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Gallagher-Milkovich family scrambles when Ian's meds go missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mickey

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the final result of a joint fic project from tumblr. The rules:
> 
> -Seven fic writers contributed to the fic, each writing from a different character perspective  
> -Each writer had 24 hours to complete their section and then hand it off to the next person in the chain  
> -The plot was conceived on the fly, with each writer responding to what happened in the previous sections
> 
> We hope you enjoy the story!

Mickey blinked his eyes open, reaching a hand up to block the sunlight filtering in through the hole in the blinds. They really needed to get new ones; they’d broken a couple slats off when Mickey crashed Ian’s shoulder hard into the window last week. He grinned at the memory, remembering what came next. Now the light filtering in woke him every morning before his alarm had a chance to go off, but it had been worth it.

Sighing, he glanced down to see Ian in his usual place, splayed out half on top of him with his face buried in his neck, pinning his arm underneath his bigger body. The light never woke him, probably because he was smart enough to keep his eyes pressed into Mickey’s skin. The summer heat didn’t stop Ian’s need to be on him all the time; Mickey nearly always woke to his heavy weight pressing him into the bed, skin stuck together with sweat in every place they touched.

Mickey smiled, stroking his free hand over Ian’s hair. He couldn’t say he minded. Pressing a kiss to Ian’s temple, he made an attempt to rouse him.

“Ian.”

He snuffled, pressing his face in closer and wrapping his arm tighter around Mickey’s waist.

“Ian,” Mickey tried again. “Move the fuck over, my arm’s asleep.”

Ian groaned, raising his head slowly to place a series of soft kisses along his neck. “Not like you need it.”

Mickey laughed, stroking his hand down Ian’s back slowly, watching him stretch to follow the heat as it moved down his spine. “Kind of like having two arms, actually.”

Ian sighed, shifting so he was fully on top of Mickey and releasing his arm. “I guess they do have their uses.”

Mickey shook out the pinpricks as Ian settled again, tangling their legs together and moving to connect their lips. Mickey reared back slightly, raising a brow.

“Think you’re just diving in, morning breath and all, huh?”

Huffing, Ian held Mickey’s face still with his big hands. “Like you care.”

Mickey smiled as Ian pressed their lips together again, opening his mouth to let his tongue inside to wrestle with his. The taste was a little sour, but Ian was right-he didn’t really give a fuck. He’d take Ian any way he could, anytime.

Mickey pulled back a couple minutes later, grabbing Ian’s hips to still his movements where he was rubbing against him.

“What?” Ian asked breathlessly.

“Pills,” Mickey said.

Ian frowned, pushing up onto his elbows. “You’re thinking about my meds right now?”

Mickey reached up to peck his lips, trying to bring the smile back. “Not really, but you gotta take ‘em in a minute anyway, just go now and we can get back to it.”

“You haven’t even looked at the time, how do you-” Ian was cut off by the shriek of Mickey’s phone alarm.

Mickey quirked a brow. “Guess my internal clock is better than yours.”

Ian scowled, sitting up and grabbing his sweatpants from the ground. “You don’t have to remind me every morning. I can handle it myself.”

“I know,” Mickey agreed quickly, wanting to side-step the familiar argument. “Just hurry up so you can come back and get on me.”

Ian’s lips quirked at that, and Mickey felt his shoulders loosen in relief. He hated that fight-no one ever came out the winner.

“You’re so needy, Mick.”

“Uh huh, says the guy who’s been on top of me all night.”

Ian smiled, leaning down to run a hand over Mickey’s face and give him a firm kiss. “Guess we both are. Be right back.”

Mickey relaxed back into the pillows as he waited. It was getting a little easier every day, talking to Ian about this stuff. He’d finally hit on a combination of meds that worked for him, and things had been nice and steady for the last couple months. Mickey knew it wouldn’t last forever, but he wanted to enjoy it while they could.

His thoughts were interrupted when Ian came to stand in the door, glass of water in one hand. The other was empty, Ian's expression betraying his alarm.

“What?” Mickey asked, sitting up.

“They’re gone,” Ian replied, face twisted in confusion. He waved his hand toward the bathroom. “My pills. They’re not in there.”

“The fuck,” Mickey muttered, rising and grabbing a pair of boxers from the floor. He put them on quickly, darting into the bathroom to look for himself. Sure enough, there was an empty row in the medicine cabinet where the pills should be.

“Mandy!” he yelled, grabbing Ian’s hand and pulling him down the hall behind him. He pounded twice on her bedroom door. “Mandy, wake the fuck up.”

She opened it a moment later, pulling a t shirt on over her head and glaring at him. “What the fuck, Mickey?”

“You seen Ian’s pills?” he asked urgently. He looked back over his shoulder at Ian. His expression was unreadable.

“You think I did something with them?” Mandy scoffed, offended. “They were in the cabinet when I got home from work, just like always.”

“Well they’re not there now,” Mickey continued. “You got home late, right?”

“Yeah, like 3,” Mandy said, rubbing her eyes as she glanced down at her phone. “It’s only 8 now, where the fuck could they have gone in a few hours?”

They all turned as another door opened, Svetlana walking out of her room, bouncing Yevgeny on her hip. “What is this noise? Too fucking early.”

“Did you move my pills, Lana?” Ian asked. “They’re not in the bathroom.”

Svetlana looked at him blankly. “Orange bottles? No, I did not move. Why?”

“They’re gone,” Mickey said. “And we know they were there last night.”

Svetlana’s eyes widened. “Maybe bum took them.”

“Bum?” Mickey, Ian and Mandy asked simultaneously.

“What are you talking about?” Ian continued.

“I catch bum in bathroom a few hours ago,” she told them in a sing-song voice, making a face at Yevgeny and smiling when he babbled in response. “He says he need to use toilet, but I threaten him with hammer to make him leave.”

“And you didn’t check to make sure he didn’t take anything?” Mickey growled, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

Svetlana glowered at him, heading to the kitchen to put Yevgeny in his high chair. “Was middle of night, I was tired.”

“Oh, that’s fucking great,” Mickey groaned. “You got any idea how expensive those pills are? And Ian needs them now.”

“I can run over to Fiona’s, they have backups at the house,” Ian reminded him.

“Okay, good,” Mickey sighed. “Meanwhile, we need to track down this fucking stranger who took your shit.”

“Was not stranger,” Svetlana said, grabbing a jar of Yevgeny’s food from the cupboard. “I recognize him from Alibi.”

Mandy snorted. “Someone we know was dumb enough to steal from us?”

“Who would have the fucking balls?” Mickey asked incredulously.

“Small, dirty man with long hair,” Svetlana described. “The one who is always at bar making speeches.”

Mickey’s eyes widened in disbelief while Ian cursed. “Frank?”

Svetlana shrugged. “I do not know his name.”

“That’s Ian’s dad, Lana,” Mandy explained, shaking her head. “He definitely came here for those pills.”

Svetlana raised her eyebrows, holding a spoon full of applesauce out for Yevgeny. “Figures. Never met a father who wasn’t piece of shit.”

Mickey pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolling to Fiona’s name and hitting the call button. She picked up almost immediately.

“Hey Mickey, what’s up?” she asked. He could hear the sound of water running and dishes banging around. “Pretty early for a call.”

“Frank stole Ian’s meds,” he said, cutting quickly to the chase.

“Shit,” Fiona yelped. “How did he manage that? Thought you had a whole arsenal over there to keep people out.”

“Not important right now,” Mickey said, clenching his fist at his side. “He’s got them and we don’t know where he is. Need you to get your ass over here with Ian’s backup meds, and then we gotta track him down.”

Fiona sighed. “There goes my day off. KIDS!”

Mickey pulled the phone away from his ear, glaring at the screen. He fucking hated when she did that.

“Mickey?” he heard her ask a moment later.

“Yeah, you done screaming now?”

“We’re comin’ over,” she replied. “Lucky you caught us just after breakfast, everyone’s home. Don’t worry-we know how to find him. We’ve played this game a million times before.”

“He better hope he still has every single pill when we track him down,” Mickey warned her, locking eyes with Ian. “I’ll beat his ass down, I don’t care how old or out of it he is.”

“No arguments here,” Fiona said. “See you in a few.”

“Mick,” Ian started when Mickey ended the call and set his phone down. “It’s not that big a-”

“Don’t, Ian,” Mickey interrupted. “You know you need those, why aren’t you pissed?”

“I _am_ pissed,” Ian said irritably. “But you beating the shit out of Frank doesn’t get us anywhere.”

“Might make him think twice about pulling this shit again,” Mickey argued.

“Alright, whatever,” Mandy interjected. “We can figure that out later. First we need to find him.”

Ian shrugged. “We know where to check, shouldn’t take long.”

Mickey shot him a skeptical look. “You sure he’d be stupid enough to go to his usual spots?”

“It’s Frank,” Ian said, shrugging. “Thinks he can get away with anything. Probably because he always does.”

“Lana, did he say anything?” Mandy asked. “Any hint about where he might be going?”

Svetlana shook her head, eyes still on Yevgeny as she watched him eat. “I do not listen to his drunken ramblings, I just tell him to get out.”

Mickey grunted in disbelief. Was he the only one who understood how fucking serious this was? He opened his mouth to vent his frustration, but stopped when Ian grabbed his arm and dragged him into the living room.

“Would you chill?” he scolded. “It’s not her fault.”

“She let him waltz out of here with all your shit!” Mickey exclaimed. “Why you actin' so zen about this?”

Ian rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s not like the world’s gonna end if I miss a couple pills, Mickey. You think I’m gonna fall apart because of this?”

Mickey looked at him searchingly. “Ian, you know that’s not what-”

“Okay,” Fiona called, bursting into the house with Liam’s hand in hers, Debbie, Carl and Lip following behind. She tossed a plastic bag of pill bottles at Ian before settling Liam on the couch. “Looks like it’s time for another round of Find the Frank. Who saw him last?”

"Yeah," Lip cut in, smirking at Mickey. "You wanna explain how you let him get outta here with Ian's shit?"

Mickey flipped him off, turning to Fiona. He pointed her to Svetlana, who was watching them with narrowed eyes from the kitchen.

“Wife drove him out of the house with her favorite hammer early this morning. You can go ahead and direct your questions her way.”

Mickey watched in satisfaction as all the Gallaghers turned to look at Svetlana expectantly.


	2. Svetlana

“What?” Svetlana snapped indignantly. “I already tell you what I know. There was a strange noise coming from bathroom. Like grunting but not,” she gestured vaguely to Ian and Mickey, “not like that. So I grab hammer and go to bathroom and there is smelly drunk man taking piss so I threaten to bash his head in if he does not leave.” 

“That _is_ your signature move,” Ian mumbled, attempting and failing to suppress a laugh.

“And it didn't cross your mind to make sure he didn't fucking take anything?” Mickey asked, looking like he was about to break something.

“Oh, I am sorry I did not think to search him before I kick him out but I was little preoccupied with the fact that there was strange man in our home who could have killed us all in our sleep and you two big strong men were not going to be protect us!” 

“But he wasn't a stranger,” Lip pointed out unhelpfully.

“He was stranger to me,” Svetlana countered defensively. “Either way, he is not welcome.”

Ian smiled at her as the Gallaghers began discussing Frank's possible whereabouts amongst themselves. Mickey was throwing her daggers but that was nothing new.

“He really your father? I never meet him,” she asked Ian when he reached for Yevgeny, who was more than happy to go to him.

Ian tilted his head. “He's actually not.”

“Huh?”

“He's not actually my dad.”

“But they say-” Svetlana looked back at the throng of Gallaghers in her home. How many of them are there anyway?

“It's a long story,” he cut her off with a shrug. They both looked over to where the Gallaghers and Mickey were now one step away from drawing a map of the locations where Frank could be. 

Ian shook his head. “If they could see how much they're over reacting, they would be embarrassed.”

“Hey, do not be mean,” she swatted him on the arm. “They love you. We love you. Don't we Yev?”

Yevgeny babbled in response. He started “talking” a few weeks ago and there had barely been a moment of silence since. It was mostly limited to different variations of “Ma”.

“You're going soft, Lana,” Ian teased her, but her words couldn't help but bring a wide grin to his face.

“You tell anyone and I will get hammer out,” she warned him, her face as expressionless as he'd ever seen it. 

“There's the Svetlana I know.”

Ian handed Yevgeny back as Mickey approached, clapping his hands together once. 

“You know, he is not his father?” Svetlana got in there first, and Mickey threw his head back in frustration.

“Okay, yes technically,” Mickey conceded, “but that is not relevant and now is really not the time to be fucking pedantic.”

“That's a big word,” Svetlana muttered, pulling an faux impressed face at Yevgeny. “Can you say _pedantic_?”

“Da.” Yevgeny bounced happily in his mother's arms.

“Hey, that's me. He knows me,” Mickey beamed, momentarily distracted by his son.

“No,” Svetlana shook her head. “He say da which is yes in Russian. He is such a clever boy!”

“I swear to god I am this close to sending you back to the fucking USSR,” Mickey told her blankly.

Svetlana narrowed her eyes. “Well, it is a good thing that Yev is speaking Russian then, isn't it? And you do know that the Soviet Union hasn't existed since before you were born, right? Read a fucking book.”

“I think we're losing focus here,” Ian told them, calmly putting a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Oi, Milkoviches. Let's leave this frankly creepy domestic foreplay 'til later yeah?” Lip asked with that signature know it all smirk. 

“You wanna do up your cocktail, man?” he asked Ian as he gestured at the pill bottles still resting inside their plastic bag on the table.

“Could you all please stop watching me?” Ian asked a few moments into his routine, and most of them went back to their previous conversations. Svetlana saw Mickey and Fiona catch each others' eye as they ignored Ian's request.

“As if I don't feel like enough of a freak.” He muttered to himself, popping the last of the pills. “Mmm, you can really taste the mental stability,” he said as he downed the rest of his water with a flourish.

“Is this some kinda joke to you?” Mickey asked with folded arms and narrowed eyes.

“No, Mickey.” Ian shook his head and pressed his lips together in a tight smile, gesturing at the pills on the table. “This isn't a joke to me.”

“That's not what I-” Mickey attempted to dissipate the tension that had suddenly filled the Milkovich house.

“ _This_ is the rest of my life. And I get that you all care, but they're my meds that Frank has taken. Meds I need to help prevent me from, oh I don't know, say running away with an infant, so could you all _please_ just calm down. We'll get the pills back. Nobody fucks with the Gallaghers, right?” he turned to his siblings. “Not even another Gallagher.”

“Fuck yeah,” Carl whispered intensely.

“He mention lawyer,” Svetlana announced suddenly, eyes unfocused for a moment before she narrowed them, as if trying to remember something.

“What was that?” Fiona asked, walking toward her.

“Ian's not-father,” Svetlana clarified. “He say something about his lawyer. I remember now because I thought that was strange. For a bum to have a lawyer.”

“Deckner,” Fiona nodded, turning toward Lip, who nodded in confirmation.

“I don't know that word,” Svetlana admitted plainly.

“No,” Fiona gave a small smile. “Deckner. Frank's lawyer is Lou Deckner.” 

“Seems like a long shot but worth a look, I guess.” Lip mused, already pulling out his phone. “What do you think, Fi? How do we wanna do this? Divide and conquer?”


	3. Fiona

Fiona watched Svetlana dote on Yevgeny and mindlessly cradled her own belly, pondering the best plan of action.

“Call Lou,” she directed at Lip, who was a step ahead, already searching for the number.

”When baby come?” Svetlana asked, aware of Fiona staring her down.

“Ummm,” Fiona followed Svetlana’s gaze down to where she still expected to see her own feet, even though they’d disappeared about a month ago. “Soon, I hope, or I don’t hope. I don’t know. I try not to think about it.”

Svetlana’s mouth pulled into a knowing smile before she turned back to the babbling baby, talking to him about getting dressed and ready for his big day.  

“Voicemail says she’s in court all day,” Lip reported, shoving his phone back in his pocket.

Fiona snapped out of her daze, welcoming the break from her nagging thoughts these days of when the baby girl inside her was going to come out and if she would ever be ready for any of it.

“There you go,” Mickey waved his hand toward Lip. “Frank must be with her, why the fuck are we still standing around?”

“It’s not like that,” Ian piped in. “Frank never actually goes to court with her. She usually settles for him out of court and she doesn’t want him around anymore than we do. She’s only his lawyer for insurance scams and workers comp, shit like that.”

“Workers comp?” Mickey scoffed. “When’s the last time Frank worked?”

“Exactly,” the Gallagher crowd echoed together.

“I really think we need to go back to the basics,” Fiona started. “Lip, you have Amanda’s car. You and Ian go to the courthouse, try to find find Lou to see if she even knows anything about what Frank’s been up to, she may have talked to him. Maybe find out if he has a payoff coming in. Carl can walk with me down to the Alibi and we’ll check if he’s shown up for roll call. Debs, take Liam back to the house and hang out there. If Frank's in scavenger mode, chances are he could show up.”

"Why can’t Carl take him?” Debbie whined, hand on her hip. “I’m older but I’m the one getting stuck at home.” She let out a huff when Carl gave her a wink and a nod.

Fiona pushed Debbie’s hair back behind her ears and pleaded, ”Debs, someone has to guard the fort and you’re the best with Liam, that’s the only reason I’m asking. Plus, I know you don’t have a big soft spot for Frank like Carl does. We all know Frank could talk him out of his last dollar.”

“Hey,” Carl yelled, his smug smile dissipating but reappearing on Debbie’s lips.

“Lemme get dressed and I'll go with you,” Mandy offered, brushing her hand over Debbie’s shoulder as she walked past. “I'll even grab my riot stick, just in case.”

“Jesus, you guys,” Ian broke in, shaking his head. “He doesn't need worked over. We just need to get the pills back.”

Svetlana sauntered out among them, handing the baby off to Mickey. “You watch baby while I shower, then we go to clinic.”

“Clinic?” Mickey looked at her and then Yev.

“Remember? For his ears,” Ian explained, smoothing the tiny boy’s unruly hair down. “We called about it two weeks ago but this is the soonest they could get him in, if we cancel it’ll be another two weeks.”

“Ok, so, Ian,” Mickey passed the baby to his partner, his lover, his family. “You take the car and drive them to the clinic, and I’ll go with Lip. If by some chance Frank is there I don’t trust the two of you to put the heat on and get the pills back if push comes to shove.”

Lip rolled his eyes but said nothing as his brother’s face said it all, exasperated at yet another mention of a paternal beatdown in his honor.

“Fine,” Ian conceded. “I don’t want be around when you make yourself look like a jackass anyway.” He turned his attention back to Yev and cooed about Mickey being dramatic, the baby giggling and agreeing with every word.

“Good, we’re settled, let’s move out and stop wasting time,” Fiona ordered, grabbing Mickey’s arm as he walked to the cabinet against the wall. “All bullshit and jokes aside, if you see Frank, do whatever you have to do.”

“You’re wasting your breath,” Mickey informed her, sliding the child lock off and swinging the doors open.

Fiona’s mouth fell open at the sight of the fully stocked shelves and hooks. Her expression shifted from surprised to impressed as she surveyed the array of weapons, ranging from pocket knives to assault rifles.

“I think you got it under control,” she murmured in approval and turned on her heel, coming face to face to see Carl practically salivating over the cabinet’s contents.  “No, Carl, we’re leaving.”

*

Fiona waddled down the sidewalk, already sweating and battling the familiar mid-morning pressure growing in her pelvis and radiating up her back. She would never understand how Vee carried a double order around for nine months.

“You ok?” Carl asked, eyes scrunched from the sunlight, but mostly in worry.

“Yeah,” she breathed out slowly. “I’m ok. Just getting big.”

“I know,” Carl looked on in wonder, his eyes following the curve of her protruding abdomen. “You worried ‘bout it?”

“About the meds? Nah, we’ll get them, it’ll just be a circus until we do.”

“No, ‘bout that,” Carl clarified, nodding to her belly.

Fiona rested her hand on the bump, thinking. “I’m more worried about after she’s here.”

“Why? You’ve done that part before.”

“I don’t know, it feels different and my track record hasn’t always been the best,” Fiona tried to explain all the doubts and anxieties that had been plaguing her, finally summing it up. “I’m scared I’m gonna fuck it up.”

“Even if your track record isn’t the best, you’re still the best we’ve ever had,” Carl reached over to console her, brushing her arm quickly before pulling his hand away.

Fiona gave a little smile, her hormones rendering her unarmed against the tears welling up in her eyes.

“Thanks.” She grabbed Carl and pulled him into her side. “That really means a lot.”

She appreciated him allowing it and walking with her like that, not breaking away until her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and read a reply from the mass text she had sent when Mickey first called her that morning.

“It’s Kev. Frank was at the bar when he opened the door.”

*

Fiona whipped open the door to the Alibi, giving Kev a nod as she stalked up behind her father where he was sitting at the bar.

“Morning, Frank,” she drawled out, looming behind him.

True to Svetlana’s description, he looked rough, clothes dirty and hair unkempt, but overall pretty standard for Frank.   

“Good Morning, Fiona,” he returned with faux sincerity. “I see you’ve decided to grace me with your presence. I thought you didn’t want me anywhere near you or the little surprise in your womb there.”

“Cut the shit, you know exactly why we’re here, where are Ian’s pills?”

Frank raised his brows at the mention and turned on his stool, not answering the question.

“Frank!” Fiona spun the seat right back so he was forced to face her. “Svetlana said she saw you in their bathroom in the middle of the night, we know you took them.”

“Svetlana? Svetlana?” he muttered the name repeatedly.

“Yes, Svetlana. Mickey’s wife, who lives at Mickey’s house, where Ian also lives and stores his medication.”

“Oh! Her!” Frank exclaimed at the revelation before narrowing his eyes. “That harlot pulled a hammer on me! I ducked just in the nick of time. I was smart enough to check her other hand for a sickle before I stood up.”

“So, you’re admitting you were there, you took them?” Fiona pressed, not entertaining his claims of battery.

Frank shrugged and turned back to his beer.

“Frank!” Fiona gripped the rail of the bar, the discomfort in her back intensifying. She took a few deep breaths, wiping her mussed hair from her face and composing herself before speaking in a slow, deliberate tone. “Frank, you need to give me Ian’s meds, now, or I swear to god as soon as I recover from having this baby, I will kill you with my bare hands.”

“Meds?” Frank perked up at the word then laughed. “They call those meds? There wasn’t even any ams!”

“Ams?” Carl repeated in confusion.

“Yes, Monnie always got ams. The ams are the real meds, they _medicate_ ,” he rambled, emphasizing the last word. “Ams help you cope, diazepam, lorazepam, alprazolam. See that’s the problem with today’s medical providers. They want to treat the overall problem, which is all fine and dandy, but what about the symptoms, what about the patient’s quality of day to day life? Hour to hour? My boy is probably wracked with anxiety and they give him nothing, nothing to alleviate that. It’s borderline inhumane if you ask me.”

“Nobody asked you and if you were so worried about your ‘boy’ you would know those pills are good for him and they’re finally working great,” Fiona gritted out. “Now cough ‘em up.”

“I don’t even have them with me,” Frank waved her off.  “They’re at my girlfriend’s.”

“Since when do you have a girlfriend?” Carl asked.

“You wouldn’t know her, her daughter and,” he paused pointedly with a sly smile. “Daugher in law moved her in after Christmas. They live in one of the nicer, rehabbed homes in our beautified community.”

Fiona could feel the tension and frustration mounting, wanting to jump off the merry go round she’d been on since birth. “So let me get this straight, last summer all you wanted to do was run the gentrifiers out, but now you’re living with them?”

“Times change, Fiona. The grass is greener on the other side of the fence and I say that literally because they actually have a picket fence. That house is amazing. The basement apartment where we stay, prime space, I’m telling you. The best part is, she loves me.”

“She loves you?” Fiona repeated in disbelief, trying to decide if she should laugh or cry.

“Yes! She loves me,” he answered, pounding his fingers into his chest. ”Unlike you and the rest of your degenerate siblings. I bet your illegitimate love child won’t even know who I am.”

“I hope she’s that lucky,” Fiona muttered under her breath. “C’mon,” she ordered, grabbing his arm. “We’re going to your girlfriend’s and getting the pills.”

“Get your grubby hands off me,” Frank huffed, trying to wrestle himself away. There was a scuffle between them, Carl stepping in to help when Fiona froze, grabbing her belly.  

“What the fuck?” Fiona murmured, a wetness suddenly spreading between her legs before a splash of liquid hit the floor.

“Cool,” Carl stood motionless, eyes wide and watching the puddle spread at his sister’s feet.

“Fuck, fuck,” Fiona grabbed the nearest bar stool and doubled over, her usual cramping replaced with shooting pain wrapped all around her abdomen, squeezing the life out of her.

“What, what?” Kev raced around the bar to look down and grinned. “Your water broke. Are you having contractions?”

“Fuuuuuck,” Fiona whimpered, not yet able to stand upright.

“You’ve been having them for awhile, haven’t you?” Kev asked, almost giddy. “I can tell, I thought you looked different but I didn’t want to say anything. You looked a little rundown and your baby bump dropped, it’s definitely lower than the other day.”

“Kevin,” Fiona grabbed his shirt and pulled his face to hers. “Shut the fuck up and help me.”

“Ok, ok, breathe with me,” Kev instructed, following up with a series of high pitched “hees” and “hoos”.

Fiona looked at him, bewildered.

“Just get me to the hospital,” she begged. ”Please.”

“Alright, I can do that. Oh my god, this is so exciting, another baby!” Kev exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Paco, watch the bar.”

“Carl,” Fiona grunted out. “Call everyone and give them an update then go with Frank and get those pills. Do not let him distract you or talk you out of it. Ian needs them.”

“Ok, I promise. I’m gonna get them. Don’t worry, Fiona, you can trust me,” he assured, watching Kev walk his sister out of the bar.

“Alright, Frank, you hear that?” Carl turned, trying to deepen his voice for effect. His eyes searched the bar, then every corner of the room.

Frank was gone.


	4. Carl

Carl stared around the Alibi in disbelief. How the fuck was Frank gone already? He was more slippery than water, and Carl had already failed Fiona. Fuck.

Carl turned to Paco and asked, “Did you see where Frank went?”

Paco pointed to the back door. “Went out the back when her water broke.”

Frank could be fucking anywhere right now. Carl got out his phone and dialled Lip’s number. “Carl, what’s up?” Lip asked.

“Fiona’s water broke,” Carl said, nodding to Paco as he walked out of the Alibi.

“What?” Lip said. “Are you fucking joking?” Carl could hear him relay the news to Mickey.

“Pants are wet and everything,” Carl said. “Kev took her the hospital. Fiona said for us to continue looking for Frank.”

“Didn’t find him?” Lip asked. “Lou knew next to nothing about where Frank was. We’ve looked for him at all the dumpsters left of the MacIntyre bridge, and we were about to head to check the bench on Wesley Park.”

“There’s no point,” Carl said, “because we already found Frank.”

Lip sighed. “Of course he was at the fucking Alibi,” Lip said.

“And we also lost him,” Carl finished. He could hear Lip curse under his breath and Mickey ask Lip what was wrong. “But that doesn’t matter. I know where Ian’s meds are.”

There was a quick moment of static while Lip talked to Mickey, and then Lip came back on. “Okay, this is what we’re gonna do. Carl, Mickey and I are gonna come pick you up right now, we’re gonna go get Ian’s meds, and then we’re gonna join Fi at the hospital. Sound good? Can you do that for me?”

“Just hurry the fuck up, I wanna see our niece,” Carl said, hanging up. Lip was so patronizing sometimes. “Asshole.” Carl searched for Debbie’s number on his Favorite’s list and then called her.

“Did you find him?” Debbie asked upon answering.

“No, but Lip and Mickey are going to help me right now,” Carl said. When Debbie said, “Where’s—” Carl interrupted her. “Fiona’s water broke.”

“Holy shit,” Debbie whispered, and then louder, “Holy shit!” She pulled away for a moment and Carl heard her yell at Mandy, “Mandy! Fiona’s water broke!” She returned to Carl, sounding breathless and excited. “We’re gonna be aunts and uncles! Are we going to the hospital?”

“Lip and Mickey and I are gonna go get Ian’s meds,” Carl said. “But she might like you guys there. You can decide.”

“Alright,” Debbie said. She let out a long breath. “Have you called Ian yet? Does he know?”

“I didn’t have the chance yet,” Carl said, “but I was gonna call him after you.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll call him,” she said.  “Look, call me when you get his meds, okay? And then call me when you’re going to the hospital.”

“Roger that,” Carl said, hanging up, and then waited for Lip and Mickey.

*

Lip pulled up in front of the Alibi in Amanda’s car, Mickey looking displeased in the seat next to him. Carl jumped into the backseat. “So where are we going, Carl?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Carl started.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mickey said, rubbing his hands over his face. “Where is Frank again?”

“Frank said he left his meds at his girlfriends house,” Carl said.

Lip and Mickey turned around and gave him twin stares of disbelief. “Frank has a girlfriend?” Lip asked, voice disgusted. “Fuck, what poor soul did he exploit this time?”

“Remember the lesbians who are like, taking over the city?” Carl asked. “He’s staying with one of the couples and their mom or something.”

“Fucking hypocrite,” Mickey said, voice angry.

“When it comes to the gays? You have no fucking idea,” Lip said. “Alright, do we know where that is?”

“No,” Carl admitted. When Lip groaned and Mickey rolled his eyes, Carl said, “But, I do know where one lesbian couple is.”

*

“Did you bring any weapons?” Carl asked Mickey on the car ride over.

“Yup.”

“Can I see them?”

“Fuck no,” Mickey said the same time Lip said, “Carl, no.”

There was a moment of brief silence. Carl looked at Lip and Mickey, Lip tapping his fingers on the wheel impatiently and Mickey’s shoulders so rigid they reminded Carl of the way Ian used to practice standing Army-style.

“Is it always this tense between you two?” Carl asked, because Jesus, Carl was considering just getting out now.

Lip and Mickey exchanged a glance. “Michael is just upset because he wasn’t allowed to drive,” Lip said snidely.

“Michael isn’t my full name, asshole,” Mickey said, scowling. “And Philip here is just being a stuck up bitch.”

“I’m the one who knows where we’re going.”

“You don’t think I don’t know where the fuck we’re going?” Mickey said, voice incredulous. “I’m more Southside than you are.”

The car settled into another very tense silence, so Carl broke it again. “How does it feel to be in now, Mickey?”

Mickey turned his head to look at Carl. “In?”

“You’ve been initiated into the Gallagher family,” Carl said. When Mickey only raised his eyebrows at Carl, Carl expanded. “You’re doing the big ‘Find the Frank’ deal. It’s a Gallagher tradition.”

Mickey snorted. “If that’s true, I was initiated a long time ago.”

Carl looked in the rearview mirror and met Lip’s eyes, both of them dubious. “When was this?” Lip asked.

Mickey shrugged. “A summer ago or so. I don’t fucking know. But I looked for Frank for, like, an entire day.”

“Why were you looking for him?” Carl asked.

“I was going to kill him,” Mickey admitted. He laughed when he saw Lip and Carl’s expressions. “Obviously that didn’t happen.”

“Obviously,” Lip repeated.

“What were you gonna kill him for?” Carl asked, leaning forward. “How were you gonna do it?”

“Um.” Mickey coughed. “Frank just knew shit he shouldn’t have. And just a gun, man.”

Carl leaned back, slightly disappointed. “That’s not even creative.”

“Oh yeah? What would you do?” Mickey asked.

“Not do. Did. We injected him with horse tranquilizer,” Carl said proudly. Mickey turned around and looked at him in disbelief. “Then we set up his funeral and pretended like we buried him.”

“Well, sorry for not having doses of horse tranquilizer up my asshole,” Mickey said, smiling at Carl. “I commend you for your fucking effort.” He raised a fist up at Carl and Carl bumped their knuckles together.

“Are you bros done yet?” Lip asked, glancing at them while he parked. “We’re here.”

*

Carl wasn’t exactly sure if either Lisa was home or if they would give a warm welcome to three Southside kids showing up at their door, but Carl had to admit, they made a remotely intimidating picture.

Lip knocked on the door, Mickey at his right shoulder and Carl standing in the center a bit farther back. They could hear people talking inside, and then the door opened to the redheaded Lisa.

“May I help you?” she asked politely, holding the door open only so that her head could fit through. She moved her head so she could see Carl, and when she did, she said, “You!” in one of the most dramatic voices he’d ever seen. Mickey covered up a laugh. Lisa straightened. “What do you guys want?”

“Do you know if a guy named Frank ever hung out with some of your friends?” Lip asked, putting on hisI’m-educated-and-therefore-trustworthy voice.

Lisa shook her head. “I don’t know a Frank.”

“You’ve never heard of him?” Mickey asked. “Some loud, vulgar guy with ratty hair and attached to some type of alcohol? Always talks bullshit? Someone must’ve complained about him about your book meetings or some shit.”

Lisa opens the door a fraction more, moving her hair over one shoulder. “I may have heard of him.” She frowns. “Yes, Rachel and Jenna, they were talking about someone like that staying with them.”

“Can you give us their address? We need to find Frank,” Carl said, peeking over Mickey’s shoulder.

Lisa smiled at him thinly, looking like she wouldn’t if he were dying. “Sorry, but he was kicked out.”

“What?” Lip asked. “When?”

“Last night,” Lisa said, becoming much more open and warmer to Lip. “Rachel and Jenna were complaining at coffee this morning—” Mickey rolled his eyes. “—that he’d come home late last night, trying to find a beer to wash some pills down. They worried about the dangers mixing could bring to a home, so they kicked him out.”

“Yes, but he left the pills at their house,” Mickey pressed.

Lisa side eyed him. “He didn’t have the chance to leave anything. They threw his items at him and then pushed him out the door.” She stopped, considering something. “Yes, they said that he left with the pills, because Jenna said ‘Good riddance to him.’ I remember her telling us that.”

“Thank you,” Lip said, giving her a warm smile, and Mickey and Carl glared at her as they left. Lisa looked scared for a moment before slamming the door shut. “Okay,” Lip said when they got to the car. He leaned back against the side of the car, facing Mickey and Carl and twirling the keys in his hand. “So Frank goes to the Milkovich house, steals Ian’s meds, and then goes back to his so-called girlfriend’s place. They kick him out, so he heads to the good ol’ Alibi.”

“We don’t need some detective timeline, we need where Frank is right now,” Mickey said in exasperation.

“Well, obviously he lied about leaving the pills, meaning he still has them with him. I guess we just resume our search closer to the Alibi?” Lip suggested.

“More dumpster diving?” Mickey asked. When Lip nodded, he said, “Fuck.”

“No,” Carl said suddenly, an idea popping into his head, Lip’s voice saying Remember that turtle you and Debbie got that one year? “Dumpsters are the go-to place for a drunk, lazy Frank. We’re dealing with sober Frank. Sober Frank is a cockroach—he can survive anywhere. He’s sneaky. So we have to think like sober Frank.”

Lip nodded, crossing his arms. “Carl’s right. Okay. So you’re Frank—you know your family is looking for you, you know that they’ve checked the Alibi. You know that they’re going to search hell and high water. They’re gonna do the regular dumpster diving and drunk Frank places, so you have to go somewhere else. You can’t go to the Gallagher house, and even if you do, Debs and Mandy are there. You can’t go to the Jackson’s anymore. Sammi and her trailer are long gone. Nobody in the Alibi wants to help you. Where do you go?”

They all stared at each other for a moment, considering. Mickey muttered, “I’m losing fucking brain cells thinking like Frank,” and Carl thought about everything: no friends and no family. Where do you go?

Except—except Frank did have one more family.

“Fuck, I know where he is,” Carl said. Mickey and Lip looked at him. “He’s with his liver family.”

“What the fuck is a liver family?” Mickey asked.

Lip groaned as he understood what Carl meant. “Fuck.” He pushed off from the car. “Well, let’s go, then. To the liver family.”


	5. Lip

“Who the fuck are the Livers?” Mickey asked again when they were back in the car. Lip was purposefully ignoring his incessant questions, but Carl was merciful enough to throw him a bone.

“Nah man, his liver family. Like, the family of the dead dude who gave Frank his liver.”

“Oh, perfect. So we can thank these people for Frank’s second chance at life? I got a few things I’d like to say to them.”

“Well if you had gone through with your plot to off him the first time then their kid’s liver would’ve gone to a more deserving recipient,” Lip said accusingly. Mickey was always Mr. Big Talk but when it came down to it he could never pull the trigger (a character trait which didn’t surprise Lip in the least), and Lip was sick of him running his mouth if he wasn’t going to back it up.

“Yeah, I’m sure your bleeding heart is just so fucking concerned about the person who missed out on that liver.” Out of the corner of his eye Lip saw Mickey shake his head and quite possibly roll his eyes, but he let it go. “So, what, Frank’s tight with these people?”

“Kind of,” Carl answered from the backseat. “Stays with them sometimes. Or sometimes they throw him out on his ass.”

 “Usually depends on how horny the wife is,” Lip threw in.

*

“Hi, Mrs. Shelton. It’s good to see you again.” Actually, every single time Lip had been here in the past year it had been the opposite of pleasurable and this was no exception, but he didn’t know how likely it was for the woman to lie for Frank so he put on his sincerest face. “We’re looking for Frank. Have you seen him? It’s kind of important.”

“Hi, Phillip.” Laura smiled and stepped back, opening the door further. “Come on in. We’ve been having a really great time with your girlfriend.”

“My... what?” Lip sputtered as he stepped into the house. Sure as shit, Amanda was sitting on the couch staring back at him, looking as smug as ever.

“Bout time you morons showed up.”

“The fuck are you doing here?” Lip asked. This day was turning out to be one surprise after another. Part of him was waiting for Drew Carey to jump out from behind the curtains and tell him he was on a fucking Candid Camera reboot.

Amanda stood up and walked over to him. “I’ve been here all day. As soon as you texted me this morning to blow me off I knew your dad would end up running here. I considered telling you but,” she smiled and raised her eyebrows, bouncing on her tip-toes in excitement, “then I decided to have my own fun.”

“How’d you know he’d come here?”

“You mean how did I think of it before you? Deflating your ego, am I?”

Carl scoffed. “He didn’t even think of it,” he said, smirking. “I did.”

Amanda high-fived Carl and turned back to Lip.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a genius, pooh bear?” she said in her sarcastic infantile voice, but she rolled her eyes and switched back to her normal tone after clearly sensing how short Lip’s temper was at the present. “I thought about becoming a private investigator a while back. Didn’t I tell you that? Sophomore year of high school, I think. Dad hooked me up with some on-the-job field experience. Turns out I would’ve been pretty good at it. Good to know I have a fallback career.”

Lip just stared at her in confusion and disbelief. If anything it was a lucky guess that Frank would be here, but she could have at least mentioned it to him. Who the fuck decides to play detective at a time like this?

“A heads up would’ve been nice. This isn’t a fucking game, he stole Ian’s meds.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Relax, I waited here all day while you chased him right to me. Besides, the Sheltons are kind of fun.” She leaned in closer to Lip and whispered, “they think I’m there son reincarnated.”

“Shit, again? How many times can a dead guy come back?”

Amanda smiled, crinkling her nose as she sat back down on the couch. She crossed her legs, leaned back, and looked far too relaxed. Lip was tired, hot, sweaty, aggravated, and had spent the entire day thus far with Mickey. He just wanted some fucking answers followed by a cold shower.

“How’d you even get here? I have your car.”

“Are you ever going to stop doubting me? Just because I’ve lived a spoiled, privileged life doesn’t mean I don’t know my way around public transportation.”

Fuck. Open mouth, insert foot. They had just gotten over a  _why do you doubt me_ argument yesterday _,_  and Lip was really not in the mood for a relationship discussion. Not that he had ever in his life been in the mood for a relationship discussion, but now was an especially terrible time.

Luckily, he was pretty sure Amanda wasn’t looking to pick a fight either. (The fact that she let him get away with so much shit was about eighty-five percent of the reason he liked her so much).

“So why the fuck didn’t you call me when he showed up?”

“Because apparently he’s of little use to you. He already sold Ian’s meds.”

Mickey took the opportunity to jump into the conversation. “And you’re such a cunning fucking interrogator that you can be sure he isn’t lying, huh?” Lip silently thanked Mickey for asking a question that he probably would’ve gotten the cold shoulder for if he had asked Amanda himself. Not that that would’ve stopped him but, still, it was nice to have someone else take the heat.

Amanda just rolled her eyes at Mickey and let out an exasperated sigh. “He’s not lying. But feel free to break out your polygraph if you don’t feel my skills are up to par.”

“Wait, so where is he?” Carl said, finally asking the question that Lip realized he probably should’ve asked ten minutes ago.

Laura, who had been lurking silently in the corner since she had ushered them in, spoke up. “I think, he’s, um,” she stuttered uncomfortably as she scratched the back of her head and then pointed in an indiscernible direction.

“He’s taking a shit,” Amanda announced unabashedly, causing Laura’s cheeks to turn bright red.

“Jesus, I don’t have time for this.” Lip brushed past Laura and made his way to the bathroom, ready to throw Frank off the pot if he had to. He tried the handle, not surprised when he found it locked, so he pounded his fist against the door.

“Frank! Get the fuck out here.”

“Can’t a man make a bowel movement in peace?” his father’s friendly voiced called out.

“I know you’ve killed off about ninety-eight percent of your brain cells but you’re still not dumb enough to think I can’t pick this lock in two fucking seconds.”

“Or I can bust the fucking door down,” Mickey chimed in, as bright as ever.

“Or we can get Mickey’s gun and shoot the handle off!” Carl’s idea was about as brilliant at Mickey’s (but he was thirteen, at least he had an excuse).

Lip rolled his eyes at both of their suggestions. “Frank, you’ve got five seconds to unlock the goddamn door. I’m not fucking around.”

“Alright, alright, may I wipe my fucking ass first?” More of Frank’s incoherent grumbles could be heard as Lip waited, running a hand through his hair in frustration. This was so fucking ridiculous.

As soon as Frank opened the door Lip had Frank’s shirt in his fists, pushing him back against the bathroom wall.

“Where are the pills, Frank?”

“Would you get offa me? I already told the chink, I sold ‘em. They’re gone with the wind.”

“So you’re saying that at some point between shaking Carl at the Alibi and now you had time to find someone to buy them? Sorry, not buying it.”

“No, no, I sold them earlier today. Needed to make a quick buck.”

Lip heard Carl speak up behind him. “Thought you said they were at your girlfriend’s house?”

“It’s called lying, son. L-y-i-n-g. You always were the slowest of my offspring, weren’t you? Such a shame.”

“Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.” Lip loosened his grip a bit, more annoyed than angry at this point. “Why would you lie and say you still had them?”

“If I had said I sold ‘em Fiona would’ve clawed my eyes out. Those pregnancy hormones are no joke. Monnie almost castrated me when she was pregnant with you, all because I ate the last of the bologna!”

“Who’d you sell them to, Frank?”

“I don’t know, one of those ugly broads your sister works with.”

Lip was confused for a moment, turning the gears in his brain before realizing what Frank was saying. Debbie had gotten a job as a lifeguard at the pool, but why would Frank- oh fuck.

“Wait, you went to sell Ian’s meds at Patsy’s Pies? They’re all recovering addicts.”

“What better market is there? I was just stopping by for some pancakes but then, in a moment of sheer brilliance, I found myself an interested party. She paid me a pretty penny for them too, once I threatened to tell her boss about our little exchange.”

“Jesus fuck, Frank! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Oh, settle down, would ya? Fuckin’ useless pills anyways, like I told your sister. It’s not like I went in there slinging heroin. Although that’s actually a great idea, I could make some real money off of those half-wits, going to their meetings and pretending like it fucking helps, like they’re above those of us who choose not to be quitters-”

“How ‘bout you shut the fuck up unless you’re tellin’ us what she looked like.” Mickey sounded about as impatient and fed up as Lip felt.

“Ah, I don’t know. Blonde hair. Or maybe it was red. Short. Eh, well, taller than me, I think. Or maybe I was slouching. Ahh,” Frank shook his head and scowled. “I don’t remember a goddamn thing about her. I told you everything I know about the bastard child’s pills, now let me get on with my day.”

Lip shoved Frank harder against the wall, considering bashing his head against it a few times for good measure. Ian didn’t deserve this. Things had finally been going good for him. Fucking  _finally_. And now he had to watch as his family ran around like headless chickens acting like his life depended on what was in the missing bottles. 

It didn’t make finding the pills any less urgent to Lip, but it did make him hate Frank that much more. He scowled at the man, but then released his grasp.

“Don’t fucking move.” He turned and walked over to the group of onlookers to discuss the situation.

Suddenly, he saw Frank darting to the backdoor but Mickey was too quick. He grabbed Frank by the back of his shirt, yanking him back before delivering a hard punch to his jaw. Frank cursed and fell to the floor, holding his face in his hand.

Lip nodded at Mickey, which could be taken as a _thanks_ or _good job_ or just a twitch depending on when you asked him, and Mickey bit his lip in response.

“So you think he’s tellin’ the truth?” Mickey asked, directing the question towards Lip.

“I don’t know. I guess. Seems like kind of an elaborate story for him to just make up on the spot.”

“It’s not like he doesn’t have experience making up stories,” Carl pointed out.

“Yeah, true, but I’ve heard enough of his lies to know that this doesn’t really sound like one.” He couldn’t explain it, didn’t really know what was compelling him to suddenly believe the shit Frank was spewing, but something in Lip’s gut was telling him that this wasn’t like his usual bullshit stories. Maybe he just wanted something to move forward with. “I don’t fucking know. He could definitely be lying, but it’s worth checking out.”

Amanda clapped her hands together. “Okay, great. Now that we’ve cracked the case, can we please leave the other sleuths to it? You know we’re supposed to meet my parents for dinner and if we ditch them again Dad’s not going to pay for my trip to Scotland.”

Lip shook his head. Did she seriously not understand what was going on here?

“Look, I can’t, okay? Just go without me.”

“Without you? Pretty sure my dad doesn’t even care about seeing me, he’s been trying to schedule a date with you for months.”

“Amanda-“

Mickey cut him off. “It’s fine, man. Go.”

“We need to get this shit figured out, Mickey.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll take Mandy with me to the diner. We don’t need you to hold our fucking hands.”

Lip thought it over for a moment. The hardest part was over; they’d found Frank and gotten him to spill. Mickey and Mandy should be able to deal with a waitress at Patsy’s without his help. What’s the worst that could happen?

“Alright,” he nodded. “Carl, you want us to drop you off at the hospital?”

Carl looked contemplative, weighing the options of hanging out with Mickey versus hanging out with Debs and Liam waiting for their niece to arrive.

“I promise you won’t miss any gunfire,” Lip told him and Carl nodded, seemingly convinced.

The three of them were making their way towards the door when Laura stopped them.

“Amanda reminds us so much of our David,” she said. “We would love for both of you to have dinner-“

“Yeah, okay lady, no offense but I plan on doing everything I can to never have to come back here again,” Lip interrupted. Wasn’t the dad supposed to be the crazy one? Now Mrs. Cleaver was suddenly seeing the Beave in people, too? “Find someone else to play your kid, okay?”

“Oh!” Amanda yelped. “Yep, yes, I just felt his spirit leave my body. He’ll find someone else to cling to soon, I’m sure. Don’t worry,” she said as she squeezed Laura’s arm comfortingly. She was having way too much fun with this.

Lip turned to Mickey before they headed out the door. “Mickey, you sure you got this?”

“I got it. Go. I’ll call you when it’s taken care of.”

Lip nodded, giving Frank one last glare before following Amanda and Carl out the door.

Mickey pulled out his phone to call his sister. “Hey. Tell Iggy you need the car for a minute. Come pick me up, I’ll text you the address… No, but we know where they might be… Alright”

Mickey hung up and crouched down in front of Frank who was still on the floor, slouched against the wall and looking disgruntled.

“And you,” Mickey said, grabbing Frank by the ear. “You’re coming with me.”


	6. Mandy

Mandy rolled her eyes as Mickey hung up on her. Dumbass forgot that Ian had the fucking car, not Iggy, but she guessed he had a few other things on his mind. Now she needed to figure out the logistics of how she was going to get to wherever Mickey was with Debbie and Liam while Ian and Svetlana had the car.

“Debs!” Mandy called from the couch to Debbie in the kitchen. Debbie walked out from the kitchen, Liam trailing behind her (she had finally realized he was getting too big to carry everywhere). Debbie gave her an expectant look. “So Mickey thinks they have a pretty solid lead on what Frank did with the pills, but I gotta call Ian so we can get the car back and go pick Mickey up. I’m thinking that if you want to go see Fiona in the hospital now would be a good time, since there won’t be much room in the car and it seems like the exciting part is over.”

“That sounds good, but how do I get to the hospital? I don’t exactly want to take Liam alone on the L.” She folded her arms over her chest and Mandy stood up from the couch, ignoring the teen hormones the other girl was radiating, and pulled out her phone to call Ian.

“I think Lip still has Amanda’s car. See if he can come pick you guys up.”

Mandy left Debbie in the living room as she pulled up Ian’s number on her cell phone.

The phone rang a few times before he answered, “Mandy, what’s up?”

“So we think we know what Frank did with the pills, but Mickey needs us to come pick him up. I didn’t know if you were done with Yev’s appointment yet.”

“Yeah, we actually just got finished up. Let me drop Lana off at the house and then I’ll swing by and get you.” Ian sounded exhausted and Mandy was worried about how much he was worrying. She’d talk to him more later.

“Okay, I’ll let Mickey know. See you soon.” She hung up the phone and received a text from Mickey with the address of where he needed to be picked up from.

 _Ian’s on his way. Remember he had the car. We’ll be there soon._ She replied back to him and then she was left to wait.

“Lip’s going to come pick me up. Apparently they were already heading that way with Carl anyway,” Debbie said as she strutted back into the kitchen to wash Liam’s dishes. “You doing alright?”

“I’m fine,” Mandy answered, unconvincingly. “Just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“You have to be sleeping better now though since you’re home and everything, right?”

“It helps knowing that Kenyatta isn’t going to beat me up just for coming home later than I told him, so I guess that part is better.”

Sometimes even Mandy wasn’t sure why she had left last year. She’d felt alone and desperate. Her best friend was going through something she didn’t know how to help with, her brother had his own little family, and Lip, well, Mandy didn’t even want to think about what she’d done with Lip. Over the last year she’d gotten to know Amanda a little bit and she had to admit reluctantly that she was a pretty great match for Lip. Kept him in check. But Mandy had felt alone with only Kenyatta to keep her from falling apart, so she’d made the decision to leave with him—that had been a mistake.

Debbie must have sensed that Mandy didn’t want to talk about Kenyatta or why she had come home or even why she had left in the first place, because she changed the subject. “Do you think you’re going to keep your hair blonde?”

Mandy smiled. She liked the blonde look. It made her feel lighter, happier, healthier. It made her feel like her life wasn’t a black hole of despair and tragedy and that she could maybe just for a little while be like all those girls in those dumbass teen movies who somehow managed to get their shit together.

“I like it this way,” Mandy replied simply. Debbie smiled at her, and then they heard a honk from the front of the house.

“It looks good on you. Good luck with Frank!” Debbie called as she dragged Liam out the door to join Lip, Amanda, and Carl.

*

Mandy felt weird being alone in the Gallagher house. Shit, she hadn’t been left alone in the Gallagher house ever before. She’d either been with Ian or Lip. She found herself wandering up the stairs in the living room and drifting over to Lip’s bedroom. She leaned against the doorway, thinking about that summer she practically lived here, the life she’d had before and the life she had now.

She wondered what would have happened if things would have worked out differently. If Karen had never come back, would her and Lip still be together? If Lip had just come with her to Mickey’s wedding, could she have avoided the abusive relationship that was Kenyatta? If Mickey had told her about Ian sooner, would Ian have stayed? If Ian would have stayed, would they still be searching for pills he needed to keep his life in order?

Mandy didn’t know how long she had been standing there, but the front door opening and closing alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone.

“Mandy, you here?” Ian’s deep voice called up the stairs and she took a deep breath, not letting herself wonder about other what ifs.

“Yeah, I’m here,” she said, making her way down the stairs to see him smiling up at her tiredly. “How’s the kid?”

“He’s all good. Svetlana has him taking a nap at home. It’s been kind of a long day, hasn’t it?” He looked almost somber, like it was all his fault that this was happening, like Frank being a conniving piece of shit was somehow his responsibility.  

“Well, it’s almost over. Let’s go get that douchebag of a brother of mine and your not-so-much father and get your pills back,” she said as she looped her arm through his and dragged him toward the door, feeling years younger than she was, if only for a moment.

*

They got in the dirty old car and started driving to the address that Mickey had given them. Ian sighed loudly when they were about halfway there and Mandy turned to him with a very unimpressed face, arms crossed.

“If you are going to complain about how everyone is going out of their way to get you your meds back, fucking save it ‘cause no one wants to hear it.”

“Mandy, this is ridiculous. It’s become an all day thing! It doesn’t even matter that much. I have the backups.”

“That is so not the point and you fucking know it. What Frank did was crossing a line and he needs to be taught that you don’t fuck with Ian Gallagher. Not anymore.”

“But Mands…”

“No, we all love you and we all want you to have everything that you deserve. You deserve to live your life Ian and that asshole doesn’t get to get away with taking what belongs to you. You don’t fuck with the Gallagher-Milkoviches either.”

Ian was staring at her out of the corner of his eye. He finally exhaled as they pulled up to the house that Mickey and Frank were standing in front of, Mickey literally holding Frank by the ear. “I love you guys too,” Ian whispered as Mickey knocked on Mandy’s window.

Mandy rolled the window down and looked at Mickey expectantly.

“Get outta the front, bitch,” Mickey said as he tried to maintain his hold on Frank who was squirming.

“No way. I was here first. Plus it looks like you come as a package deal now,” Mandy smirked at Mickey as she folded her arms tighter and sat back in the seat. Ian was trying to contain his own smirk as Mickey looked at his boyfriend in the driver’s seat.

“Fucking fine,” Mickey huffed as he opened the door and threw Frank into the back seat, sliding in next to him while remaining a healthy distance away. “You good?” Mickey asked Ian, who looked at him in the rearview mirror.

“Will be as soon as this asshole gives me my meds back,” Ian bit out in Frank’s direction and Mandy smiled as they pulled away and drove in the direction of Patsy’s Pies.

“I don’t understand why you need to kidnap me in order to get back the pills that don’t do fucking anything anyway. I have my rights you know,” Frank ranted from the back seat as Mandy rolled her eyes. Jesus, this guy, really.

“And I don’t see why you need to steal my meds when you no doubt have at least twelve dealers willing to sell you the sketchiest shit for dirt cheap,” Ian quipped as he drove.

“He fucking sold them to one of the addicts that works with your sister too, man,” Mickey added.

“Doesn’t really surprise me. Where is Fiona anyway?”

“Oh did your little thug Nazi loving Ukrainian friends forget to tell you that my dear daughter is having her baby?”

Ian eyes widened in Mandy’s direction. “Fiona went into labor?”

“I was going to mention that, but I forgot, sorry. I’ve had a few other things on my mind. Plus, don’t labors last like hours? We’ll make it in time to see the baby.”

Ian smiled brightly at the mention of another baby. Dude had baby fever if Mandy’d ever seen it, but she couldn’t blame him for loving Yevgeny so much. The baby was infectious. His facial expressions alone were enough to make you fall in love with him. Even Mandy was a little excited to see the new baby Gallagher.

*

They parked in front of Patsy’s Pies and jumped out of the car, Mickey dragging Frank behind them. The bell over the door chimed as they four of them walked in. It wasn’t a very busy day so the place was more or less empty. Fiona’s pretentious boss walked over to greet them.

“Ian and Ian’s friends. What can I do for you?” he asked with a huge, fake smile on his face. He was even worse than the last guy.

“Is Jackie here?” Ian asked. They had made Frank retell the story on the way over and they were all tired of bullshiting their way through the day. They were all just plain tired.

“No, she already went to the hospital to go see you sister,” he said, his smile dropping a little, but a creepy glint settling into his eye at the mention of Fiona. What was it with that girl and getting guys to fall all over her? “I told her I’d finish covering her shift. Why do you need to see her?”

“Frank here sold her my meds, probably claiming they were something she can get high off of. Unfortunately, they aren’t going to do much for her and I need them.”

As Ian talked, Frank was still trying to squirm his way out of Mickey’s grasp rambling off nonsense that no one was paying attention to. Her brother just held on tighter to the dirty man.

“Oh, shit. Well, like I said she already went to the hospital. It didn’t seem like she had taken anything.” This guy was not very helpful.

“I guess we’re going to see Fiona sooner than we thought,” Mandy said. Hopefully, everything would culminate at the hospital and then she could go home and get some sleep before her shift tonight.

“Do you want me to call Jackie and let her know that you’re on your way? And that those pills aren’t going to do her any good?” Boss-man asked.

“That’d be great, man. Thank you. We’ll let you know about Fiona later. Thanks,” Ian called as they headed out the door. They all got back in the car.

Hopefully, this would be their last stop.

 


	7. Ian

Ian’s feet pressed fast on the pavement, anxious to hit the hospital door. He turned, quickly. Groaned. “Mick! Mick! Drop him! You’ll get us kicked out!”

Mickey hesitated, but dropped his grip on Frank, muttering some threat Ian couldn’t hear.

Ian was breathless at the reception counter. “L & D, please?”

“Sixth floor. Elevators to the right.”

Mickey stayed close to Frank, hand ready to grab at him. “The fuck’s L & D?”

Mandy rolled her eyes as she hit the elevator button. “Labor and Delivery, dumbass. You’d know if you bothered to show up for Yevgeny.”

“Don’t you dare fuckin—” Mickey began, before Ian’s hands shot out in both directions, one on Mickey’s shoulder, one on Mandy’s. Their mouths listened to Ian’s hands, quieting as the elevator doors opened.

Mandy hit the 6 while Frank peeled himself off the wall, mumbling, “Labor and Delivery my ass. Hospitals crawling with disease and vermin.”

“Shooting your mouth about yourself again, Frank?” Ian scoffed, watching the numbers light up.

“You ungrateful little,” Frank began, before Mickey’s reaching hand quieted him. “Your mother almost had you in the backseat of the goddamn car, son. By Debbie she was popping them out in the kitchen, as nature intended!”

Ian rolled his eyes before he caught Mickey and Mandy staring at Frank, mouths open.

The doors opened, and Ian gave Mickey’s sleeve a gentle tug. He smirked as Mickey yanked Frank out by his shirt, then pushed him into Mandy’s hands. He watched Mandy pull Frank behind her as she rushed down the hall, not wanting to miss a thing.

“That shit true?” Mickey’s eyebrows shot up, impressed.

“Oh yeah,” Ian said. “Had to lay blankets down in the car after that. Smelled terrible.”

Mickey laughed. “What about the rest? Do you remember, like, Debbie—”

Ian nodded. “I had to go get Monica towels and beer and stuff. Sometimes Fiona would have to go find Frank while I stayed. With Liam, they didn’t even come back until after.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah. And Lip hated it all from the start. A six year old is perfectly capable of rolling his eyes, in case you were wondering.”

Mickey laughed. “We need to keep that in mind with Yevgeny, then.”

“Sure do. Coming up quicker than we think.” Ian paused, smiling. “It was cool, though. It’s — it’s not like anything else.”

“What about seeing her, you know…”

Ian shook his head, felt something deep inside himself trying to tell him, show him. “No, that doesn’t matter. That doesn’t matter at all.”

Ian pictured himself at five, at six, at nine, holding Monica’s hand. Once by the sink, towels under her, water and blood, her eyes focused on the wall, sometimes Ian’s face. Ian had learned how to breathe like this, like they were both swimming, underwater, rising up to take a breath before diving deep again. That same spot by the sink where she slumped that Thanksgiving, blood everywhere. Later, after the ambulance took her away, Ian couldn’t stop thinking, _That’s where she had Liam, pretty much right there. While Fiona, fucking Fiona, had to run around in the damp summer night, running down every alley, into every bar, playing Find the Frank, and they didn’t come back until later, Liam already wet in Monica’s arms_. 

“Ian!” Mandy was back in the hall, Amanda hot on her heels. “Ian, quick!”

Ian’s eyes darted, searching, scared. “What’s wrong, where’s Lip?”

Amanda shrugged. “Got woozy.”

Mandy grabbed Ian’s arm. “She wants you. Debbie’s in there. C’mon.”

 *

Fiona was oddly calm, which meant things were on their way. Ian felt that thick weight in the air. Fiona stared at the wall, eyes focused. Her mouth made an O, slowly, as she breathed out. A nurse stood, took off her gloves, nodded at Fiona once, “Be back soon,” she said, patting Fiona’s leg.

Fiona breathed out again. Her eyes relaxed. Ian waited, then walked closer. “Hey Fi.”

Fiona eyes filled fast, voice cracking. “Ian. You made it.”

Ian blinked hard, nodded.  “I made it.”

Debbie looked at the clock, looked back at Fiona. Fiona’s eyes changed again, Ian already reaching for her hand. Fiona held it hard, squeezed. Harder. Harder. Their eyes locked. Fiona asked questions with her eyes. Ian nodded, swallowing against the lump in his throat. Fiona breathed out, released it in an O again. Closed her eyes.

Ian let his eyes pull away from Fiona’s face to look at the clock. Debbie’s eyes caught his on the way back. She made a tiny backward motion with her head.

Jackie. In a Patsy’s Pies shirt, sitting on the radiator ledge. She looked straight at Ian, gave the tiniest smile, nod. He shook his head, chin out.  Of course this had to be happening now.

Fiona shifted. Ian’s eyes held her, quietly, offered an arm behind her shoulders. “D’you need to move up? Or stand a little? Or kneel a little or…?”

Fiona shook her no head right away, eyes asking _Is that okay?_ Ian’s eyes said _Of course it is_. 

Debbie looked at the clock, back at Fiona.

“Ian,” Fiona breathed, “Ian, help.”

Ian smoothed her hair back, kept his voice low, held her hand, let her squeeze. “You’re perfect, Fi. She’s gonna be here so soon. Doing such a great job.”

Fiona’s eyes dropped down. Her breathing changed. Ian took a deep breath. _Time to go underwater, come back up again, dive down deeper, come back up again._  His hands were so much bigger, now. His breath felt the same.

Jackie, that Jackie. “I’ll go get the doctor.”

Ian’s head shook back and forth, silent, not leaving Fiona’s face.

“But.”

“Shhh,” Debbie said.

_Under the water, out of the water. Under the water, out of the water._

“Ian!” Debbie whispered, eyes down, fingers sliding soft just below Fiona’s rising knee. _Under the water, out of the water._  Ian found Debbie’s eyes, held them, nodded once.

 _Under the water, out of the water._  Fiona surfaced slowly, eyes wide open, Her fingertips touched the surface of the water, wanting to hold it. “It’s okay,” Ian whispered. “It’s okay, Fi.” Fiona’s breath unsteady, chin shaking. Then a breath, eyes open. She held Ian’s hand harder as she slid back under, diving deeper. Diving deeper and deeper, rising up and up and up, deep breath, diving back under. _Under the water, under the water._  Fiona diving deeper and deeper underwater. _Out of the water, out of the water_. Fiona gasped, once, before diving deeper, one last time.

And there she was.

* 

Lucy. Her name was Lucy, and she was perfect.

The doctor huffed when he came in, but the nurse gave a nod, helped with the rest of things. Debbie and Fiona couldn’t stop crying, touching her, putting her against Fiona’s skin. Ian kissed the top of Fiona’s head, shaking. Tears burning his eyes as they fell on Lucy’s soft head. He blinked fast, touched Lucy’s cheek, looked up.

Jackie. Fuck. Jackie still sitting on the goddamn radiator.

Ian tried to steady his voice. “Can I—should I tell anyone anything yet, or,”

Fiona nodded through tears. “Yeah, go get ‘em.”

Ian paused. “Frank’s here.”

Fiona swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I know.” She kept nodding, eyes wet. “It’s okay.”

Ian’s eyes filled a little then, but he shook it off. He heard Mickey’s voice outside. Ian ached to hold him, shake the amazement of what just happened deep into him until Mickey felt it in his spine.

But Ian couldn’t. Things weren’t done yet. Fuck all this meds bullshit ruining everything. But there it was, anyway.

“Jackie,” he said. “C’mon.”

 *

The door swallowed everybody else up fast, shouts and squeals they could hear in the hall. Jackie was quiet. Ian could feel Mickey’s whole body clench without looking at him, almost hear his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

“We need to talk,” Ian said.

Mickey took a step back, the tiniest huff of a laugh. “Fuckin’ talk, huh? That’s the fuckin’ word for some junkie buying all the shit you _need_ and—-”

“It’s not what you think!” Jackie’s voice sounded desperate. “It’s not! Fiona said —”

“Bull _shit_  Fiona said!” Mickey’s voice grew louder. Ah, fuck. They had to get out of here before they were thrown out.

“Outside,” Ian said.

*

Mickey and Jackie lit cigarettes the minute they were outside, Mickey was still caught between laughing and punching, shuffling around.

“Jackie, I seriously need those back,” Ian said. “I can’t — like, I hate that I fucking need them in the first place, but I need to take ‘em or I go fucking insane for real.” Ian glanced at  Mickey. He knew Mickey didn’t like when he talked like that, but Mickey’s eyes were open and still. “I just—” Ian began. “I just can’t go back to that. It’s too hard. Hurts too much. And I can’t do that to them again.” His eyes met Mickey’s. An apology. A promise.

Jackie chewed her lip, popping her lip ring around before she began to speak. “Look. Fiona told me if your dad showed up with something, like, you know, stuff in bottles like that, lookin’ to sell em, and she wasn’t there…” She paused for breath, looked at both of them and sighed heavily. “I was supposed to buy ‘em from him and she’d pay me back. She was scared something like this would happen to you guys. Said she knew it would.”

Ian tried to believe her, was still trying when he heard Mickey say, “Bullshit.”

Jackie’s eyes pleaded with Ian. “Look, you can ask her. I just couldn’t tell you in there.”

Mickey shook his head. “Empty your fuckin pockets.”

Jackie opened her purse and pulled out four bottles. “All there,” she said. “All he gave me, anyway.”

Ian and Mickey froze, looked at each other. The bottles looked pretty full considering Frank had been holding them.

“When’ja get these,” Mickey asked Ian softly, squinting at the partially-scraped-off labels.

“Last Wednesday I think? Maybe Thursday?”

“What. Fucking. Day. Ian.”

Suddenly, Ian remembered, remembered it was the day Mickey pushed him hard against the window, and then— “Last Tuesday. The day those blinds got broken.”

Mickey looked up. “The blinds? What the—,” and then he stopped, a blush pushing hard against his cheeks as he remembered. He cleared his throat. “Okay. Okay, Tuesday. Stick your hands out, like this,” and he pulled Ian’s hands, cupped them together.

Mickey dropped the contents of the first bottle into Ian’s hands, staring at the pills in his hands. He poured the other bottle’s contents into Jackie’s. Stared again. Jackie squinted, confused.

Mickey carefully slid them back in their bottles. “Again,” Mickey said, and they held out their hands as the second set of pills dropped. Mickey’s eyes moved fast over Jackie’s palms, then Ian’s. Ian tried to dip his head, catch his eyes, but then Mickey looked up, eyes wide. “No fuckin way.”

 *

“He just kept saying the medical system was going to shit because they didn’t give you bennies,” Carl said, eating vending machine Cheetos outside Fiona’s door. “Kept asking me if I had any money.” He tipped the bag to his mouth, shook it as the last crumbs dropped. “What are bennies again, exactly?”

MIckey shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

Carl smeared his orange hand against his shirt, shrugging his way back into Fiona’s room.

Ian watched the door shut. “It was only a matter of time, I guess. Glad he didn’t realize the last one could get him really fucked up.”

“For a burnout asshole, he don’t know shit, apparently.” Mickey’s jaw slid, just slightly, “Not like anyone even knows what they’re talkin’ about with this. They aint us.”

Ian reached for Mickey’s hands, held them softly. Mickey’s eyes flicked away a second, a reflex, before quickly looking back. Ian knew Mickey was trying hard, so hard, to release the reflex into nothing. “Mickey.”

Mickey shrugged, slid his thumbs over the back of Ian’s hands slowly. “Just glad we got 'em back. But I swear to fucking god, Ian. He tries this shit again—”

Ian closed the last shred of distance to kiss him, slow and full and soft, a tiny laugh inside it.

Ian pulled away slowly, smiled, clucked his tongue. “Such a tough guy.”

“Fuck you.” Mickey said, but smiled back.

“Later, maybe, if that last one doesn’t knock me out first. That new dose is still getting to me a little. But we’ll get home in time.” His shrug, his smirk, his wink. Mickey’s laugh, just a little.

Ian heard his whole family in Fiona’s room, laughing hard and cooing and amazed. Mickey’s eyes held onto Ian, rough and sweet. _All this time_ , Ian thought, _and he stayed._  

Ian’s mouth opened and closed. He swallowed hard, shifted his feet. “That new dose, though. It’s helping me a tiny bit more, right? It’s not coming back or anything, I know, but it’s just helping a little more, right?” Ian’s voice tried to sound hopeful, tried to reach past the fear he could sometimes feel in his fingertips, each pill in his palm, over and over again, every day.  

Mickey’s hands slid up Ian’s arms, grazed his neck, pulled the back of his head forward. “Ian. Look at me. Look. This is just like everything else, okay? Just gonna be another week or somethin’, right? It’s just a little more than before. Adjustment. Don’t mean shit. You hear me? It’s nothing. And I tell you if I see anything. That’s our deal, right?”

Ian nodded as Mickey searched his face. Nodded again. He breathed deep, eyes pressed on Mickey’s, Ian’s eyes saying _Yes_.

“Good,” Mickey said as he released his hold, soft little clap against Ian’s cheek. “Now let’s go see this kid you were talking about. Just what you Gallaghers need, another redhead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading; we hope you enjoyed our little experiment! In case you're curious:
> 
> Mickey-staggie21/stagmania  
> Svetlana-twelvemorestopsandhome/micklanamlkovich  
> Fiona-myholldoll  
> Carl-kissteethstainred/carlgallaghrs  
> Lip-dollknee/backstreet-gurl  
> Mandy-thealphatribute/mckeysgallagher  
> Ian-pink_ink/palepinkgoat


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